


Cults; Why Does It Always Have to be Cults?

by Thorny



Series: Ineffable Plans and How to Stick it to Your Bosses... [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Child Abuse, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Cults, Cults being assholes to Kids, Demon Summoning, Demonic Possession, F/M, Gen, Hurt Crowley, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Prophecy, Rituals, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Vaguely Lovecraftian References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-01-31 19:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21245630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorny/pseuds/Thorny
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale were happily enjoying their retirement post-Apocalypse.  Unfortunately, some troublesome humans forcibly drag the two celestial beings into the awful, horrible dealings of a doomsday cult.Trigger Warning: Later Chapters will contain horrible things happening to Kids.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)
Series: Ineffable Plans and How to Stick it to Your Bosses... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564594
Comments: 128
Kudos: 194





	1. Chapter the First

**Author's Note:**

> So I will be very honest and admit that this is a shameless OC self insert. I promise they won't steal the show from our favorite Demon and Angel if you do choose to stay and enjoy this fic. I love comments and will happily read every single one! Even if its to tell me I am horrible. :) Feel free to also let me know if I missed any tags.
> 
> ***Trigger Warning Detail: ** Later Chapters will contain Child Abuse, Child Endangerment, Mentions of past Abuse, and Lifelong Traumatic Events involving Kids (I will spoil here that none of this will be happening to the Them. There also will be **no **Child Death.)

Crowley languidly stretched out on the bookshop’s backroom couch, his sunglasses forgotten on the low table and his shoes haphazardly tossed somewhere on the floor. He flicked idly through one of Adam Young’s miracled picture books detailing the antics of a gaggle of young British children getting up to some impressive antics - certainly not a parallel to the Them - while his counterpart and best friend bustled about in the front of the shop.  
“Here we are,” the angel murmured as he shelved a book from the comically tall stack nestled in his arms. There hadn’t been any customers all day, and both of the human-shaped beings were just fine with that.  
“Why don’t you just close early, angel?” Crowley called. He fought down a smirk at the audible annoyed sigh from Aziraphale.  
“I’ll not have you tempt me to close early four days in a row, my dear.”  
“Wot if I tossed in a stroll through St. James and a bag of dried corn for our mutual waterfowl friends?” the demon countered, closing the book and setting it down on the low table. He would have given it a token haphazard toss, however he would rather save the inevitable lecture for something worth winding the angel up for. Aziraphale appeared in the backroom’s open doorway with furrowed brows and pursed lips.  
“Crowley, really, resorting to bribery?”  
“Pft - bribery would’ve been offering a stop at the cafe on the corner for tea and some of those little scones you like so much,” Crowley corrected with a wide grin. The angel rolled his eyes with a petulant little frown, but Crowley could see right through the act as the angel tried to keep the demon from catching his eye directly.  
“Hm - wot about... scones and then St. James, both?” Crowley finally offered, knowing the moment he won when Aziraphale bit his lip and fidgeted with his ring.  
“Oh, you wily serpent, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” the angel sighed. The demon resisted an outward triumphant celebration, settling for kicking up off the couch to hunt down his boots.

After flipping the sign in the window to ‘Closed’ and locking up the shop, Aziraphale linked his arm with Crowley’s before setting off for the quaint little cafe up the block. The demon not-so-secretly enjoyed the increased frequency of these sort of walks with his angel post Armagedidn’t. Before, they met perhaps once a month at the most (and even more infrequently before that). Crowley aimed to make up for all those dates-that-could-have-been. And for all of Aziraphale’s posturing, the former serpent knew the angel enjoyed their excursions just as much as Crowley.  
“It really is too lovely an afternoon to spend cooped up in the shop,” Aziraphale murmured pleasantly, as if the outing had been entirely his idea all along. Crowley rolled his eyes behind the safety of his sunglasses.  
“Told you.”  
“No one likes a braggart,” the angel teased, lip quirking to the side betraying him. Crowley snorted.  
They continued down the street in companionable silence.  
The tinkle of the cafe’s bell announced their entrance and a peppy young woman in a uniformed apron ushered them to a nice, semi-secluded little booth. From there, the two celestial beings enjoyed a spot of tea and a generous sampling of different scones and their accompanying spreads. Well, mostly Aziraphale enjoyed the scones themselves while Crowley enjoyed watching his angel. 

After Aziraphale had his fill, the two wandered on to St. James. They took their time meandering along the path until they found their way to a familiar bench near the pond. Crowley subtly miracled a little sack of corn as the ducks took notice of the pair settling down, waddling over with eager little twitching tails.  
“Are we hungry this afternoon, my dears?,” the angel asked, taking a generous handful of the dried food. He was answered with a smattering of quacks. Crowley chuckled and took his own handful, tossing it toward a scrawny little thing off to the side. One of the other fatter ducks snapped up most of the fallen feed before the demon shot it a warning glare.  
“Hey now, if you lot can’t share, we can take our corn elsewhere.”  
A defeated quack. The fat mallard shuffled off sulking, leaving the scrawny one to peck at what corn was left in peace. Crowley gave a satisfactory nod. Aziraphale covered his mouth, but he couldn’t quite hide the amusement from his eyes when the demon glanced over.  
“Wot?”  
“Nothing, dearest. Nothing at all,” the angel quickly assured, tossing a second handful to cover his poor excuse. Crowley huffed and slouched further on the bench, watching the ducks sift through the clipped grass for their snacks.

By the time the two human-shaped beings ran out of corn, the sun had crept behind the trees and shops. Aziraphale gave a self-satisfied little sigh. The angel glanced toward his companion just in time to catch the skinny demon giving a long stretch and a yawn.  
“Ah, it has gotten a bit late on us, hasn’t it?”  
“Mn,” Crowley agreed. Rising from the bench, they bid their waterfowl friends a good night and made the easy trek back to the shop arm in arm. They retired to the backroom as soon as Aziraphale re-locked the front door. A bottle of wine and a pair of glasses materialized in Crowley’s grip as the demon sank onto the couch with a smirk.  
“Craving a bit of the Nero d'Avola, my dear?” The angel observed as he joined his dark companion.  
“Seemed appropriate.”  
“Oh, quite. Thank you, lovely.”  
They clinked filled wine glasses and shared sly and knowing smiles over the first sip, ready to settle in for their usual version of an evening spent in.

Crowley broke the calm with an alarmed sound, abruptly jerking up from his slouch to clutch the edge of the table. His wine sloshed dangerously close to spilling.  
“Crowley! Dear, what ever is the matter?!” Aziraphale panicked, reaching out with his free hand to steady the demon.  
“Ngk, I don’t - go- sa- somebody bless it, that hurts!”  
“What hurts? Where are you - ” Aziraphale cut himself off as Crowley pitched forward again with a grimace. The demon clenched his hands against the sharp, tugging pain. The angel winced as the wine glass shattered, but his main focus was on his hissing companion.  
“Crowley! Crowley, tell me what’s wrong!”  
“I - fuck! I think I’m - ”  
One moment the angel was wrapping his arms around his panicking demon; the next Aziraphale collapsed onto the couch face first with a startled cry. The angel scrambled up, wildly snapping his gaze around the room. No Crowley. Silent but for the soft wet plip of wine dripping from the table to the floor.  
“... C-Crowley?” the name escaped him in a choked, half-sob.

There was no answer.


	2. Chapter the Second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's been summoned and shenanigans are afoot...

Aziraphale stared at the spot his Crowley had just been. The old tartan couch held no answers. The demon’s shattered wine glass and its contents stained the low table and the rug below. A cloying acrid stench hit Aziraphale’s nostrils a beat later, forcing the angel to scrunch his face in distaste. However, there was no mistaking that particular smell. He hated that he knew that distinct scent.

Crowley had been summoned.

Aziraphale fought down the panic rising in his throat. A summoning in and of itself wasn’t the problem. No, it was _who_ could have been summoning the demon against his will… Aziraphale rose quickly, waving an absent hand to clean up the broken glass and spilled wine; the action more as an afterthought. The angel took a steadying breath and reached out with his aura for any sign of his demon.  
Nothing in London.  
He closed his eyes as he spread his search farther and farther out. Hoping. Very nearly praying.

_Please let Crowley be all right._

\-----

Crowley hated being summoned. The whole ordeal left a demon with a massive migraine and a general distaste for whichever poor sod did the summoning. Especially if that demon had just been having a very pleasant evening with a very nice bottle of wine before being very rudely interrupted.  
“Mn - ugh,” he grunted, forcing his slitted eyes to open and take in the fire lit chamber he found himself gracelessly sprawled on the floor of. The stone was freezing under his rump. Crowley grimaced. He gave the genuine article blood smeared summoning circle a cursory scan, frowning deeper at the command runes scrawled around the exterior circle. Ugh, he hated it when humans knew what they were doing.  
“Oy! Can a demon get some blessed Tylenol? Or something?” Crowley snapped, squinting past the firelight to try and see anyone else in the chamber. 

“Crawly?” Came a whispered question from his left. Crowley snapped around and gave the other demon trapped in a similar circle a startled look. He was a scruffy dark haired thing, pulling a pretty convincing human-adjacent look compared to most of the demons Crowley knew; dark jeans, dark jacket - not nearly as stylish as Crowley’s - and motorcycle boots. He was doing a grand job hiding his animal representation, too. Only glaring issue was the guy’s blacked-out eyes and acid green irises. He wracked his brain for a name - he wasn’t one of the Fallen, for sure. Maybe second generation? He seemed more curious than annoyed or murderous, which was a relatively good sign, considering.  
“Can’t say I remember you, mate, no offense. And its _Crow_ley.”  
“None taken, and its Faust,” the other demon quirked a half-smirk, “I’d offer a friendly handshake but, eh, current circumstances.” He made a vague gesture to the summoning circle with dark colored nails. Crowley snorted.  
“Really? Faust? Little on the nose, innit?”  
The dark haired demon shrugged. “I liked it better.”  
Crowley could sympathize. Though, right at the moment, there were slightly more pressing problems. He turned his attention back to the floor. The redhead slid a tentative finger across the inner circle and winced as the runes flared to life and forced him to immediately cease attempting to scrub the blood away.  
“Tch - was afraid of that,” Crowley grumbled, running his stinging fingers through his cropped locks in agitation.  
“Yeah, tried that earlier. Tried yelling for attention, too. Whoever’s got us is a fan of dramatic reveals,” Faust muttered, flicking his creepy eyes toward the chamber’s closed massive doors.  
“Bastards, that’s our job.”  
The serpent got a chuckle out of the other. Well, it could have been worse, Crowley mused, he could have been stuck with Hastur.

A sudden thought struck the yellow-eyed demon. He patted himself down, letting out a triumphant sound as he fished out his sleek black smartphone. Thanks to all of the demonic energy Crowley had inadvertently poured into it, the electronic never needed a charge and was always hovering at 66% battery power. Unfortunately, there was an unhappy little ‘No Service’ in the top corner.  
“C’mon,” Crowley muttered. He grumbled and stood, absently dusting off his skinny jeans with a free hand. No change. He held the phone up toward the chamber ceiling. He willed it to connect as hard as he could, pointedly ignoring the warning flash of the command runes.

Nothing.

Crowley let out an annoyed sound. Faust returned a sympathetic one.  
“No dice?”  
“Bloody nothing. Can’t boost it with a little demonic miracle either, thanks to these blessed runes,” Crowley grumbled, giving the summoning circle a glare.  
“Least you have a phone,” Faust offered, grimacing like the optimism left a sour taste in his mouth. Crowley let out a loud, annoyed huff. He shoved his phone back into his jacket as he thumped back onto the stone floor, opting for an inside pocket to keep it hidden. A beat passed with only the sound of the fire crackling in the braziers around the room before Crowley tentatively broke the almost-companionable silence.  
“So, Faust, question.”  
“Shoot.”  
“You’re not exactly - er - look, gonna be blunt here, mate. You’re being awfully buddy-buddy with a known traitor and I’m having a hard time getting a read on your motives,” Crowley glanced over to the lesser demon - he was sure of it now - and blinked as he caught Faust’s snort-laugh.  
“I mean sure, yeah, we were all a little pissed right after you-know-what didn’t happen,” Faust finally muttered while gesturing vaguely, “but really, no Earth, no humans, and no human vices would make immortal existence _awfully_ boring. And fighting Angels? Pft, most of us wouldn’t’ve stood a chance on the battlefield in a one-on-one. Maybe you Fallen, but us? Nah. I like being a general dick, not all out warfare, thanks.”  
“Interesting perspective,” Crowley ventured.  
“I gotta ask though, what was it that really did it?”  
“Wot?”  
“You’ve been on this rock since the start; six whole millennia! What made you turn - you know, tell the boss to sod off?” the genuine curiosity in the lesser demon’s tone was the only thing stopping Crowley from telling him to sod off for the question. Surely it was common knowledge Above and Below, the Angel and the Demon that defied both sides and Lived to Tell About it. What’s to tell?  
“I - uh - ngk,” Crowley cleared his suddenly dry throat, “I… we-ell… _fellinlovewiththeAngel._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Self-preservation runs thick between these two... 
> 
> Plan to have the next chapter knocked out over the weekend! (Provided nothing crops up... ugh)


	3. Chapter the Third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale calls in reinforcements to find his demon while Crowley and Faust are in for a bad time in the meantime...

Finally, _finally_ Aziraphale got a hint. A whiff. No discernible direction, likely clouded by whoever summoned Crowley in the first place. Generally, the summoners didn’t want to be found. But his precious demon was _alive._ On Earth. The angel allowed a breath of temporary relief. His corporation was stiff from standing in place for hours while he searched. His joints gave a protesting creak as Aziraphale forced them to move.

Aziraphale quickly rooted through his desk’s drawers, searching each until he found what he was after. The angel snatched up his older model mobile phone and searched through his meager contacts. Much as he ribbed Crowley over forcing him to purchase the infernal little device, he was immensely grateful for it just then. It certainly made finding a particular number quite a bit faster than rifling his rolodex.  
He allowed a tight smile as he selected the contact he needed successfully.   
The phone rang once, twice.  
A pause. “Yes, Hello?”  
“Anathema, my dear girl, I’ve _desperate_ need of your help.”

\-----

Crowley dared to flick his gaze toward the other occupant of the chamber after a long bout of awkward silence since his confession. Faust was staring off at the wall, eyes unfocused. Finally, the dark-haired demon turned back and offered Crowley a lopsided smirk.  
“Pair of odd ducks, you and your Angel. But I s’pose to answer your question, nah, don’t give a rat’s ass. I’m more interested in finishing this pointless summon and getting back to harassing couples in parks with my vicious geese cohorts.”  
Crowley couldn’t help the choked snort-laugh at that, feeling the tension leave him in a rush. Faust sported a shit-eating grin. Provided the lesser demon wasn’t lying, the redhead didn’t have to worry about getting stabbed in the back when they got out of this. One less thing to worry about.

The loosely jovial air broke with the loud, abrupt creak of the massive chamber doors opening. Both demons snapped up, unnatural eyes narrowing on a small group of cloaked humans entering the chamber. They were chanting something under their breath, but Crowley couldn’t place the language. He studied their dark cloaks instead, noting a strange bronze brooch on each that looked like a weird whale. Or maybe it was a hagfish. It was damn ugly, whatever it was.  
The group of six stopped short of the braziers and suddenly went completely silent. Crowley shot a glance over at Faust who shared the same uneasy look. One of the six slowly stepped forward. They held up a metal staff with an odd twisty head ornament.  
“Demons of the Pit,” The cloaked human - seemed to be male - addressed the trapped pair, “You are about to become part of a far Greater Purpose; the likes of which this world has never witnessed before!”  
Crowley rolled his eyes. Oh, good. Cultists. Go- Sa- Somebody bless it, he hated cults. Always messing with things they shouldn’t, just the worst kind of religious fanatics. Faust looked about as impressed, curling his lip back in disdain.  
“The Greatest and Wisest of us, His Lordship Deacon, will transcend humanity and unlock the great secrets of the Void! For this Purpose, you have been chosen to participate in the required rituals.”  
“Ugh.”  
“Uh, yeah, look, we’ve got things to do? Could we, maybe, hurry this along?” Crowley grumbled with accompanying hand motions. He jumped when the cultist slammed his staff against the stone floor in response.  
“You will be silent!”  
Crowley felt an icy sensation creep up his spine before his mouth forcibly closed against his will. He heard Faust’s muffled protests when the same happened to the dark haired demon.  
“Good, the runes are working correctly. One cannot always trust the texts written by the unenlightened,” the cultist sounded smug. Crowley settled for glaring since he couldn’t get a quip out. The cloaked human continued, unaffected.  
“The preparations are nearly complete. The sacrifices have been selected, honed to accept the gifts of the Void. You, Demons of the Pit, will serve the Greater Purpose through those sacrifices.”  
Well great. Now Crowley wanted to ask questions and he’d gone and sassed the tetchy cultist. He really, really didn’t like the sound of ‘sacrifices’ and ‘Greater Purpose’; they sounded an awful lot like doomsday prophecies. And he had had _quite enough_ of those, thank you very much. The Fallen shared an alarmed glance with Faust, feeling a little assured that the lesser demon seemed just as not okay with these proceedings. The cultist turned back to the others still hiding in the shadows.  
“Bring forth the sacrifices!”  
More creepy chanting. The demon resisted rolling his eyes. The doors opened again and Crowley stared with mounting horror as two _children _were marched into the chamber. They were around 11, maybe 12. A boy and a girl in tattered and dirty old clothes, both bound at the wrists, gagged and blindfolded. They looked horribly malnourished on top of all that.

Crowley shook his head on reflex, trying to force his mouth open to protest. Two of the cultists brought the little girl to stop in front of the former serpent. He took note as the boy was stopped in front of his fellow demon in his peripheral.  
One cultist whipped off the girl’s blindfold before roughly shoving her inside Crowley’s summoning circle. The demon caught her as she stumbled out of reflex, catching a whiff of the abject fear radiating off her in thick waves. Contrastly, Crowley had to give her mad props for the absolutely vicious glare she leveled at him. He visibly winced and she furrowed her brows in confusion for a split second before the lead cultist slammed his staff again.  
“Brothers, begin the ritual!”  
Crowley did _not_ like where this was going. The gathered cloaked humans started up another ominous chant in a language he couldn’t understand. He spared a glance over to see Faust looking ill as the lesser demon stared down at the young redheaded boy shoved in front of him. That kid looked way too calm. Had an unsettling air about him. But still, this was beyond fucked up.  
The chanting rose in volume. Crowley felt a twinge in the command runes as they flared to life once again. The little girl abruptly tugged at his jacket and he leaned closer obligingly. She quickly hooked a finger in the gag and tugged it down just enough to speak.  
“You stuck here too?” She hissed. The demon answered with a short nod. She actually looked relieved for a moment.  
“Do whatever they say. They’ll put us back in the Hole, we can talk then.”  
Crowley would have asked quite a few questions about that little info dump, but his jaw was still metaphorically glued shut. He settled for a nod just as the runes flared brighter. Crowley jerked as he felt an ethereal tug at his actual soul, eyes widening as he realized exactly what the cultists were about to do.

And he had thought being _summoned_ was having a bad day.

The little girl took a deep steadying breath. Crowley would have been vehemently protesting and panicking, but the damnable order left him only able to grimace and glare at the cultists.  
A crescendo in the chanting caused another harsh, bordering on painful pull at the seams of his corporation. Crowley made a hasty decision. It would be far less painful if he just did it himself, and far less likely to accidentally hurt - or somebody forbid, _kill _\- his unintended victim.

The former serpent had never been more grateful that his near execution would have given him a leg up in this awful situation. He only regretted not being able to tell Faust. He settled for hoping the other had performed at least one possession in his existence.

Crowley quickly knelt down, pressing a gentle kiss to the little girl’s forehead. She let out a confused sound before he began slowly pouring his essence into her body. He felt her fear creep into every inch of his soul. The demon tried to be as careful as possible, sharing the space instead of taking over like in a traditional possession.   
Just before he pulled the last of himself out of his corporation, he snatched his phone out of its hiding spot and slipped it in his victim’s shirt. She understood immediately thanks to being able to hear his loud surface thoughts and tucked it against her stomach, still shaking like a leaf at the extremely skin crawling feeling of a demon possessing her.

The chanting slowly died down. Through the little girl’s eyes - Aelisea, she helpfully supplied - Crowley watched his corporation drop to the stone floor, lifeless. He metaphorically shuddered at the sight. At least when he and Aziraphale had done this, it had been far less traumatizing. He had her glance over to the other two and watched the same happen to Faust’s corporation. The boy turned and tilted his head side to side before Crowley caught a flash of inky black and acid green in the kid’s eyes. He let out a silent breath of relief. They’d managed it.

Now, they just had to figure out exactly what this cult wanted with two possessed children, and preferably, escape before that.

Go - Sa - Somebody, Crowley hoped Aziraphale would find him soon.


	4. Chapter the Fourth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cults are horrible and Aziraphale cheats at travel...

“My brothers, the ritual was a success!” The staff-wielding cultist broke the silence. A quiet chorus of murmurs broke out amongst the other cloaked humans. Some pointed at the two demon-possessed children and whispered. Aelisea inched closer to the ginger boy - Kellord, she helpfully supplied to her unwilling occupant - as the doors creaked open once again.  
Crowley uneasily watched two new cultists with leather aprons over top their robes step into the chamber. His unease grew as Aelisea began to shiver. Kellord, however, remained unnervingly calm. Crowley wasn’t sure if that was the kid or Faust.  
“As his Lordship Deacon proclaims; bind them and seal original evil to the flesh of the innocent. There, it will fester and corrupt until the Vessel is prepared. Only then may the Void come forth into the light, folding us into its cold embrace!”  
Crowley hissed low at that. The little girl tried to shove her fear down deep, putting on a brave face as the two leather aproned cultists approached one of the braziers with what looked like metal cattle brands.  
_They aren’t…_  
They are. Aelisea focused the thought with a thick swallow. Crowley felt absolutely sickened. Both children were grabbed from behind and forcibly walked forward to the edge of each summoning circle. The cattle brands were thrust into the fire’s red hot coals. 

Crowley put his metaphorical foot down. He gently but firmly forced Aelisea down into her subconscious with a reassuring push, taking over just as the cultists pulled the steaming hot brands from the brazier. 

_Let me handle this. S’the least I can do._

\----- 

Aziraphale usually enjoyed the journey just as much as arriving where he wanted to be. The means varied via bus, taxi, walking, or even Crowley’s horridly fast Bentley. However, certain pressing circumstances had the angel not bothering with any of those facets and opting straight to teleporting onto Anathema’s front porch. It left an unfortunate acrid scent all its own in the wake of Aziraphale’s arrival. He rather hoped it dissipated on its own quickly enough.  
He did, however, at least politely knock on the cottage’s door. Anathema wretched open the door and ushered the angel inside.

“You said he’s been summoned?” The witch repeated their earlier phone conversation, even as she gathered various bottles and jars into her arms.   
“Yes, unfortunately. And whoever’s gone and done it knows their obfuscating spells. Most troublesome. I managed to confirm Crowley’s still on the Earth, at least.”  
Anathema nodded as she dumped her gathered materials onto his kitchen table. Newton Pulsifer wandered in from the other room, blinking and rubbing his head.  
“Oh, hi, didn’t know we were having… guests?” He looked around for the angel’s other half.  
“A bit of an emergency, I’m afraid. I don’t believe I’ll be staying for tea,” Aziraphale apologised, wringing his hands as he watched Anathema sort her ingredients. Understanding dawned on the man’s face, but before he could say anything, Anathema cooly cut him off.  
“Newt, sweetie, could you grab the world map in the cupboard?” Mrs. Pulsifer directed her husband with a look. Mr. Pulsifer dutifully padded off to retrieve it. 

“Is there anything I can assist with, dear girl?” The angel offered, blinking as a jar of some foul smelling sulfurous muck was thrust into his hands. The witch gestured toward a cabinet nearby.  
“I need a bowl out of there - preferably wooden, and something of the demon’s. The stronger the connection the better. Put that,” she gestured to the jar, “in the bowl with the item.”  
Aziraphale nodded. He scrunched up his nose against the smell and fished out a wooden bowl and placed it on the counter as requested. He snapped his fingers and a pair of Crowley’s favored sunglasses appeared in his other hand. He spared a fond smile for the glasses before dropping them gently into the bowl and covering them in the grossly thick sulfuric goop. As the stuff slowly melted Crowley’s glasses, but surprisingly not the bowl, Newt returned with the map. Anathema snapped it up before the man could lay it on anything important, spreading it open on the half of the table not covered in jars, bottles, and poultices.  
“Alright. This sort of tracking spell is fairly straightforward. And lucky for you two, I know his aura. This would have been quite a bit harder if I didn’t,” The witch explained as she pinned the corners down with various random heavy objects. Aziraphale offered a grateful smile and a nod. 

The angel moved out of the way as she pulled out a metal pendulum from her pocket and dipped it into the bowl of smelly goop. Anathema thoroughly coated the little piece of equipment and was just about to lift it out by the long chain when a sharp knock at the door interrupted her.  
“Oh dear, I’ll get it,” Newt quickly excused himself. Aziraphale shared a curious glance with the witch. Who could be out at this hour?  
They were shortly answered by four familiar children rushing into the kitchen followed by a harried Mr. Pulsifer.  
“Sorry, I tried.”  
“I felt a weird pulse over this end of Tadfield, had to check. Sorry, Mr. Fell, Mrs. Pulsifer,” Adam Young piped up first, contrite for interrupting. The other three followed his lead and murmured various apologies. The angel tutted softly.  
“I did pop over a bit suddenly, didn’t I? My little teleportation miracle must have set your alarms right off, terribly sorry,” Aziraphale apologized in turn, frowning slightly at the thought of having worried the poor boy. He had enough on his plate being the anti-Antichrist, after all. Of course massive celestial movements in his backyard would send the boy into a tizzy. Now the angel felt a bit rude for not announcing himself a bit more thoroughly.  
“Where’s Mr. Crowley?” Pepper asked, looking around the kitchen pointedly. The rest of the Them made similar motions, curious. Newt helplessly shrugged. Anathema let out a sigh.   
“Aah, that would be why I’ve come, dear girl. Anathema was just about to help me locate him, hopefully.”  
“Where’s he gone?” Wensleydale piped, brows furrowed.  
“He’s not been kidnapped, has he?” Brian quickly added.  
“Do I need to give a good telling off to someone?” Adam looked a little too hopeful. Aziraphale held up his hands defensively at the onslaught of questions.  
“We haven’t quite got that far just yet, I’m afraid!” The angel looked to Anathema with a helpless glance. The witch straightened up and huffed.  
“I’d be done if everyone could just hush for a moment,” She snipped, straightening her glasses with a free hand. A chorus of ‘sorry’s followed as the Them gathered around the table. Aziraphale followed, tucking his hands behind his back as Anathema moved the coated pendulum to sit a mere inch over the spread map. She murmured a quick spell under her breath that set the pendulum spinning gently.  
“Now, I just move it over the map like so,” Anathema demonstrated. The pendulum continued gently rotating on its chain. “And when it finds Mr. Crowley, it will stop.”  
“Neat!”  
“Cool…”  
“Wow!”  
“Bang on!”  
Aziraphale nervously chewed his lip despite the Them’s enthusiastic responses. He rather hoped it worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... my beta pointed out that "less is more". Hence, I will not be telling the... more graphic version of what's going on in Cultist-land. I'll be leaving it to everyone's imagination and we'll be checking in on Crowley and the gang next chapter.
> 
> I'll still be leaving all of the warnings on Chap 1's opening notes. I feel even if I don't go into detail, the _idea_ of these happenings are... enough. Kay? Kay. Glad we had this talk. :D


	5. Chapter the Fifth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finally gets a moment to figure up from down and Aziraphale's book hoarding comes in handy.

One moment, there was the anticipation of a searing hot pain. The next, Aelisea came back to shuffling down a long, damp and dark hallway alongside her cellmate. Kellord looked a bit dazed, but overall coherent. She still felt floaty and a bit fuzzy around the edges while their escort removed their bindings before tossing them carelessly to the bare stone floor. The slam and click of the lock was a somewhat distant sound.

The demon inside her dropped the rest of his hold with an apologetic sound, followed immediately by the sharp lingering pain of the freshly charred mark at her sternum. Aelisea felt the tears spring to the corners of her eyes even as she tentatively brought her fingers up to the edge of the ruined skin.  
“Aelis, look at me,” Kellord’s rough voice was a balm on her panic. She immediately threw her arms around the boy and choked out a sob on his shoulder. The boy in turn gently wrapped his arms around her, started slowly rocking them both and made soft, assuring noises while she buried her face deeper. He didn’t make a single complaint when she pressed against his own fresh wounds.

Crowley slithered down as far as he could to give the little girl her space, trying very hard not to overhear her thoughts as he gathered his own. The demon _still _couldn’t wrap his head around what humans would do to other humans without a hint of demonic influence, especially to children. He’d tried to spare her the brunt of the pain, but there was only so much he could do to soothe it without being able to just miracle the burns away. From what Crowley could gather, the damnable brands were a collection of command runes keeping him and Faust from just un-possessing the kids, doing any overt demonic miracles, or resisting direct orders.  
He turned his attention to the cell. Solid stone walls on three sides, tightly spaced iron bars on the fourth. Fairly typical. The faint rhythmic dripping from somewhere out of sight was a nice touch of ambiance. The mold and mildew, however, not so much. The demon was honestly surprised the kids were doing alright health wise considering.

“Uh, Crowley, I think? Excuse me, Mister demon? Crowley?” Aelisea’s quiet requests dragged the former serpent out of his musings. She seemed back in control of herself now, not that Crowley was going to make any comments otherwise if she hadn’t.  
_Wot can I do for you, kiddo?_  
“God, I feel like I’m talking to myself,” She let out a little watery laugh, still scrubbing at her eyes absently with a dirty tattered sleeve. The boy shoved something inside a thick crack in the cell wall before responding dryly.  
“Well, you are. There’s just something responding that shouldn’t be there.” A pause as if he was listening, then the redheaded kid smirked. “I’m aware you weren’t exactly willing participants earlier. No need to get so defensive.”  
_We weren’t, trust me._  
“You know, it's really bothering me that I want to. You’ve been a lot nicer in a few hours than the assholes keeping us here have been,” Aelisea snorted softly, a smile threatening to break. Crowley felt his metaphorical heart break and melt.  
_I am sorry, for wot it's worth. I tried to - you know - but I can’t. Those runes, they - um - the runes’re keeping us from doing anything._  
“Figured. Kel, he says the brands they gave us are keeping them down,” She directed at the boy. He nodded, tapping his own temple.  
“This one said as much earlier. Yours took over while Deacon’s men - ” Kellord paused, wetting his lips delicately before continuing, “Aah, did the ritual. Interesting eyes. Reptile?”  
_Snake, actually._ Aelisea relayed the response.  
“Mm, and what about you?” Kellord hummed, listening to the silent response. “A wolf isn’t very demonic. I would have pinned you for a bat, perhaps?” A chuckle at whatever Faust was saying. “You’re fun to wind up.”

Crowley internally snorted. Well, Faust seemed to be getting on with his unintended victim, even if the kid was a little ‘off’. But, they say trauma does weird things to humans. He vaguely wondered just how long these two had been trapped here.  
The demon abruptly remembered a rather important thought.  
_Hey - um, Aelisea? Did you happen to check my mobile?_  
“Huh? Oh! Yeah, Kel just hid it. Said there wasn’t any service in here.”  
Well that was just great. Though, Crowley had to admit he didn’t recall climbing any stairs so they must still be too far underground. At least they had it. Maybe if they could figure out how to escape, he could call for help on the surface.

One step at a time.

\-----

The excitement at the beginning slowly fizzled as the tracking spell dragged on. Anathema could only move the pendulum a few centimeters each time to let it calibrate and try again. Aziraphale was the only one after several grueling hours to still paying rapt attention to the pendulum’s movements aside from the witch herself.  
“Not in Europe, nor Asia, thankfully not Russia, and Africa is looking like a no as well,” Anathema murmured, slowly inching the pendulum to the southern tip of that particular continent. She let out a tired sigh and shifted her grip on the little chain, accidentally swinging the little device all the way across the ocean. She paused and jerked the pendulum over the States again, feeling another tug. The Them perked up as they heard her let out a surprised sound. Aziraphale let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as the swinging agonizingly slowly came to a dead stop over the northern right corner of Arizona.  
Anathema gave an experimental little tug. The pendulum didn’t budge.  
“Well. Seems I need a bigger map.”

A few moments later, thanks to Aziraphale’s centuries of hoarding books on just about any subject imaginable (and some not), Wensleydale and Pepper held open a huge atlas of the states the angel had summoned via convenient miracle. Specifically, the one of the state of Arizona. Anathema slowly moved the pendulum over the top right corner. Everyone found themselves leaning closer as the pendulum’s circles tightened and tightened until…  
“There! He’s there!”

The angel felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He was going to find Crowley, and bring him home. Somebody help anyone who got in his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why Arizona? Did you know there's nearly 100,000 unmapped collapsed and abandoned mineshafts in northern Arizona? I do now!


	6. Chapter the Sixth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids come up with a plan Crowley does _not_ like...

After a bit of confusion culminating from a multi-way conversation and repeating the non-verbal participants’ injections, the four managed to gather a basic timeline for their respective kidnappings. The kids had been keeping rough track since they were taken just over a year ago - Crowley’s list of reasons these cultists were getting some harsh punishment once he was free was growing exponentially - and he and Faust were summoned about a day and a half ago.   
The boy had apparently been pulled out of the ‘Hole’ more often than Aelisea. Kellord didn’t care to elaborate on why and the demons didn’t exactly ask. However, from what the kid had gleaned, this entire cult was centered around summoning some awful unknown entity from someplace they called the Void that was going to supposedly grant them immortality. Crowley had to snort at that. Ah, cults. The dressings may change but the goal was always the same. Their leader, Deacon, was a greying, wrinkly old bedridden bastard clinging to the promise of immortality and apparently willing to torture children to get it.

_So, the bit I’m stuck on is that ‘it will fester and corrupt until the Vessel is prepared’ that noisy one blathered right before - things. Does he think we’ll actually hurt you lot?_ Aelisea repeated for the others.  
“I suspect they might force you to,” Kellord murmured, shrugging. He paused, tilting his head. “That… isn’t a bad idea, Faust.”  
“What?” Crowley echoed the question just as Aelisea voiced it.  
“Well, we could just ruin the brands.”  
_That would fall under hurting!_ Crowley protested. Aelisea, however, was giving it some serious thought. The demon let out a tired sigh as he caught a few of the child’s churning thoughts.  
“You took over and kept me from feeling pain earlier,” She pointed out, raising a brow. Crowley wanted to object. Her body had still been harmed and he hadn’t been able to actually do anything about it except keep from screaming himself.  
“Faust says you could heal us afterward. End justifies the means, and all that,” Kellord added, calmly.  
_I _don’t_ hurt kids._  
Aelisea offered a tight smile. “Crowley, either you two hurt us a little now, or they keep hurting us a lot later. If you think these brands are the worst thing they’ve done to us both…”  
“You would be very wrong,” the boy finished when his cellmate trailed off, patting her arm gently. The demon hissed out a very angry sound at that, his barely restrained horrified rage bubbling out at the edges. He had to force himself to calm down when Aelisea’s heart rate skyrocketed. He offered a quiet apology for scaring her.

“If it helps your decision at all, I strongly suspect these rituals will end in death for all four of us. They do keep calling us sacrifices, after all.” Kellord’s unnervingly calm demeanor seemed to keep Aelisea grounded while it just made Crowley’s skin want to crawl right off. However, as morbid as the thought was, the kid was probably right. The likelihood of a cult like this _not_ making that kind of sacrifice was slim to none.  
_ For Fuck’s sake, fine. Fine! I still don’t like it._ Crowley threw up his metaphorical hands. Aelisea offered another grim smile.  
“He says he’ll do it.”

\-----

After profusely thanking the witch and promising to pop by for a proper visit with his other half in tow, Aziraphale managed to depart the cottage with only minimal assuaging of the whims of the Antichrist and his friends. Someone willing to summon a demon in this day and age could be very dangerous. Certainly no place for children, cosmic powers or not. He managed to just barely convince the Them that he would return with Crowley and some ‘proper games’ to make up for being excluded from the rescue.

The angel straightened his vest with a huff and gave his cuffs an absent straightening before bringing his hand up and snapping himself off to another continent.

Teleporting somewhere you’ve never been was always a gamble. It usually simply Wasn’t Done, just from the myriad list of complications alone. Aziraphale, however, had one major advantage over his celestial brethren.

Google Earth.

Adam had brought up the area on his own mobile and shown Aziraphale the tiny town of Chinle just south of where the pendulum had pinpointed Crowley’s location. The Street View had given the angel a near perfect idea of where he should miracle himself to - the back alley of a little bar on the edge of town.  
Aziraphale gave his sandy surroundings a cursory cluck of his tongue in distaste, but at least it was as deserted as he’d hoped at this hour.  
Stepping out into the late afternoon sun, the angel shielded his eyes and looked toward the north. He frowned as he confirmed what the atlas had shown. Miles and miles of dusty, sandy mountains. Far from discouraged, however, Aziraphale squared his shoulders and marched off into the desert.

\-----

Aelisea was prepared this time. The gentle pull felt a bit like falling asleep as Crowley took over again, careful not to be too rough as he switched them about. The absolute last thing Crowley wanted to do was break something he didn’t know how to fix. Satisfied he’d done it right, the demon gave her small, gaunt hands an experimental flex before looking up at Kellord across the cell.  
Faust’s green-on-black eyes blinked back at the former serpent from the ginger boy’s face and the lesser demon let out a sigh.  
“This is so fucked,” Faust muttered, running the boy’s fingers through his matted hair in an attempt to comb it back. Crowley couldn’t agree more.  
“Yes, well, best we do this careful like,” the Fallen turned to face his fellow demon fully, gesturing him over. Faust obliged. They each pulled the kids’ tattered clothes out of the way to get a clear look at both brands. The nasty, fresh burns were still extremely tender to the touch. Crowley narrowed his borrowed eyes at the runes along the outer circle, trying to pinpoint the one they needed to break first. Unfortunately, they couldn’t just go at it willy-nilly; that was a good way to cause magic backlash. Which was one thing when the runes were on an unfeeling floor; quite another on a living human.

Ker-splat, as they say.

“So, how messed up is your small human?” Faust half-joked, making conversation as they worked. Crowley raised a brow.  
“Doing about as well as she can be, given the situation.”  
“Well that’s good, because this kid is _fucked_ up. I don’t think there’s enough therapy on Earth for him,” Faust shuddered.   
“Ngk - do you think he’s dangerous?” Crowley hated to ask, to even voice such a thought, but if the boy was that unstable… However, the lesser demon quickly shook his head.  
“Nah, probably fine. He thinks the world of your kid - in a way - so as long as we don’t fuck up, should be golden.”  
“Aah, good?” Crowley was tempted to ask what exactly ‘in a way’ meant, but right now they had more pressing problems. Getting the bloody hell OUT. He held up Aelisea’s hand and concentrated. To his relief, her nails dutifully elongated to points, meaning they could at least control their manifestations. Crowley brought the newly formed claw up to rest over the first rune he was sure they needed to destroy on Kellord’s chest.  
“Alright, here goes attempt one,” Crowley muttered. At Faust’s nod, the Fallen sliced downward. To both the demons’ surprise, he was able to cut the brand easily. The lesser demon shuddered tellingly with a sharp sound in the back of his throat.  
“Oh-ho, whoa. That - mn, yeah, good thing the kids can’t feel _that._”  
“Bad?”  
“Very. Ready?” Faust offered a quirked grin. Kellord’s face lent the action a positively sinister look. Crowley sighed.  
“No, but do it,” He tried to brace himself, but he was not in any way prepared for the icy spike of agony straight down his spine swiftly followed by the intimate feeling of having the _worst _hangover with none of the fun. Crowley actually had to force down the visceral need to throw up the meager contents of Aelisea’s stomach. The demon hadn’t vomited in at least a millennia.  
“Gonna live?” Faust checked in after a moment of no response, tilting his head. Crowley reluctantly pried open his eyes and looked up, catching sight of the blood freely dripping down to stain Kellord’s dirty clothes. The demon absently reached up to touch his matching slash and looked down to see Aelisea’s fingers covered in her own blood. He gave himself a firm shake, banishing his darker thoughts.  
“Ngk - yeah. Go - Sa - Somebody, that was…”  
“Awful?”  
“Understatement,” Crowley muttered.   
“Only seven more to go!” Faust mocked in a falsely cheerful voice. Crowley held back an annoyed groan.


	7. Chapter the Seventh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale covers some ground and the demons make some progress...

While he would always acknowledge that Mesopotamia had been a very important time in human history, Aziraphale did not terribly miss dust and dirt getting into every nook and cranny of his being. The angel managed to keep his complaints entirely internal as he trudged across the low mountains.   
As tempted as he was to manifest his wings and cover more ground, he worried about alerting whoever was out here doing such things as summoning demons and managing to keep their occult signatures almost completely hidden. Not only that, but after the first accidental encounter with a fenced area and an unfortunate armed ranger who was currently standing alone in the middle of Minnesota all of a sudden, Aziraphale felt it prudent to not draw too much attention. For now, he exerted a bit of his Will to turn the heads of any other humans who might be about.

Along with his Will, he kept his celestial senses spread wide around himself, feeling out for any flares of his demon’s answering resonance to guide him in the right direction. The pulses were worryingly faint considering Aziraphale should have been nearly on top of his location. He felt as if he’d slogged over the same several kilometers of desert several times as the sun started to dip past the mountains.  
“Oh dearest, just hold on,” the angel murmured, brows deeply furrowed with worry.

\-----

Crowley dragged a sleeve across Aelisea’s mouth with a final hacking cough, glaring down at the bile dotting the cell floor. He refused to let his gaze drop any further despite being able to feel the wet warmth soaking the child’s chest.  
“_Satan’s hooves,_ no wonder they didn’t ward against breaking these,” Faust growled, spitting out a glob of blood from biting the boy’s tongue with his accidentally manifested sharpened teeth, “If either of us had tried to do this to ourselves…”  
The lesser demon cut himself off before he gave a useless swipe of his claws on his ruined clothes to try and clean his hands of the smears of blood. Crowley did his best to try and block out the smell.  
“Just one left, each.”  
“And I’ll bet it’ll hurt the worst,” Faust muttered darkly, “I’ve got a lot of _words_ for these bastards once we get our corporations back, not gonna lie, Crowley.”  
“Right behind you, mate,” The former serpent hissed, gathering his wits to concentrate on the last rune. Faust held up a hand.  
“I should do you first, so you can heal her. I had to cut real close to the bone on that last one,” he pointed despite knowing Crowley wouldn’t look. The Fallen swallowed thickly before nodding sharply. He tried to brace himself, despite knowing how useless that had proven. Faust offered a quiet apology before slashing down on the last command rune in one swift move.

\-----

Aziraphale jerked, nearly stumbling forward as a huge wave of demonic power slammed into his core. His hand shot up to clutch at his chest even as the angel smiled widely.   
“Crowley!” Aziraphale breathed, finally able to feel his demon’s familiar pulsing aura… far below him. He blinked, glancing down at the ground. Below? Well, that explained why he didn’t feel he was getting any closer earlier. He needed to find a way down.   
Aziraphale backtracked through the foothills, letting out a sigh as he came upon a series of collapsed mine entrances nestled into the base of one of the dusty hills. Just as he was tapping his chin trying to pick which tunnel to try first, an unexpected answering wave of a different demonic energy hit him.   
Fearing the absolute worst, Aziraphale’s eyes widened. Hell was involved? On Earth? Perhaps the angel had made a mistake telling Adam he had it handled… He lurched forward, picking an entrance at random.

Too bad the angel didn’t quite see the brush covered person-sized gap in the ground.

\-----

Crowley snapped Aelisea’s fingers with a grim smirk. All of the blood, bile, and wounds on Kellord’s body sloughed away like so much water. The demon dared to glance down then, pleased that not a mark remained on either child. He’d left the myriad of scars Faust had admitted to noticing on the boy, however. Best not disappear anything not asked after.  
“Now, what’s the plan, oh serpent?” Faust gave himself a quick demonic miracle of his own and proper clothes snapped onto Kellord. Nothing too crazy; but they were clean, whole, and fashionably dark. Crowley snorted, but followed suit for Aelisea, opting for a Velvet Underground t-shirt and jeans. She felt like a jeans kind of girl. No sense in escaping in rags when they could go out in style.  
“First, check in with these two. Then, we make like bandits and get the Heaven outta here,” the Fallen offered, getting an agreeing nod in return. They each gave a careful tug at the souls who owned their borrowed bodies. 

Kellord first let out an amused chuckle as he touched the dark jacket Faust had snapped into existence.  
“Well, well, a wardrobe change along with freedom? Aren’t you an accommodating hellion,” the boy smirked, listening to the reply, “I do appreciate that. Perhaps we can discuss the particulars later.”  
At the same time, Aelisea gushed, “Oh, wow, Mister Crowley, I can’t - we can’t thank you enough - ”  
_Don’t thank us just yet; we’ve still gotta get you two out in one piece,_ Crowley gently interrupted. She rolled her eyes.  
“Take my thanks - don’t think I didn’t notice the clean digs, too. You have no idea how nice being in clean clothes is,” Aelisea ran her hand down one leg of the jeans, tapping the sneakers now covering her calloused feet.  
Crowley didn’t think his metaphorical heart could break any further. He was wrong.  
_Y-yeah we-ell, it’s no big deal - ngk - jusssst being practical is all._  
Aelisea snorted, but didn’t press. Abruptly, the light mood of the cell quickly soured as the sound of the hallway door opening interrupted them with its loud screech. Kellord was quick to drag the girl by the arm into the deep shadows, watching one of the cultists make their way down the dreary hallway. They were carrying a metal tray.  
“Dinner,” Aelisea whispered for the demons’ benefit. Crowley scrunched his metaphorical nose against the stench as the cultist drew closer. That was supposed to be _food?!_

Kellord let loose a wiry little grin and nodded to something Faust was saying, holding up his finger to his lips for Aelisea. She nodded. He moved toward the bars with his hands carefully folded behind his back.  
“Boy, where is the other?” the cultist grumbled, stopping short of the door. He seemed to take no notice of the boy’s clothes; Crowley assumed Faust was to do with it. Kellord smiled demurely.  
“Resting. Recovering from the burns,” he mused with a downcast glance. The cultist tsked and stuck his nose up in the air.  
“No matter. Step back.”  
Kellord obeyed, taking the ordered step back away from the door. Crowley cocked his metaphorical brow in question, though Aelisea seemed to anticipate something. The cultist pulled out a key, unlocking the cell door. He tugged it open and moved to set the tray down on the floor. In a move much too fast for a human, Kellord snagged the cultist by the bare wrist and grinned with a mouth full of sharp teeth.  
“Mm, bad move,” the boy chuckled. The cultist had a second to attempt a retort, managing all of a single syllable before his eyes rolled back. A beat later, Faust had complete control over the unfortunate dreg, giving a cursory swipe at the blood dripping from his nose with the long sleeve of his dark robes.  
_Oof, he’ll be feeling that later, _Crowley snorted, finding it hard to feel any sympathy for their captors.  
“Oh my, much less gentle with that one, were you?” Kellord chuckled, hands on his hips. Faust gave a toothy grin with the cultist’s face.  
“I’m just a touch testy with these humans, can you blame me?” the lesser demon shrugged.   
“This is _perfect!_ God, we have a chance of getting out of here!” Aelisea threw up her fist with a triumphant sound and beamed at the two. Crowley couldn’t help catching her infectious happiness. 

Somebody willing, he was going to get these kids out of this horrible place. And if a few cultists go down in the meantime, well, the demon wouldn’t exactly be in a caring mood.


	8. Chapter the Eighth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale makes assumptions and the demons hatch a plan...

Aziraphale scoffed and grumbled as he righted himself with several swift hand swipes and a miracle or two. He silently pouted over the rip-that-wasn’t in his vest; Crowley would have done it for him with a bit more finesse. He gave his thoughts an admonishing mental finger waggling. Right now, the angel’s main concern should be finding a way back out of the mineshaft he’d fallen into. One last snap removed the bloody wound in his thigh from the rough landing as if it had never been.

Had he been human, he likely wouldn’t have survived the fall.

“Let there be Light,” Aziraphale commanded, squinting as the tunnel illuminated. He blinked, slowly taking in the much more elaborate archways and unlit torch sconces that a mineshaft probably shouldn’t have. The angel tentatively spread out his aura. He could feel the subtle pulse of the runes that must be carved into the walls that had been dampening his senses earlier.   
Eventually, he let out a sigh of relief as he buffeted up against Crowley’s aura, somewhere toward his left. Unfortunately, he also felt that second demon in the same direction. They both felt off in a way the angel couldn’t place. Aziraphale squared his shoulders and furrowed his brow. No use ruminating for now. He needed to find Crowley.

\-----

“Alright Mister Crowley, Plan A. Hand me that phone, Kel,” Aelisea held out one hand toward the boy as he moved to fetch Crowley’s mobile from its hiding spot. Her other hand was occupied with a piece of toast she was carefully nibbling. Faust looked mighty proud of himself as he snapped the rest of the awful slop on the tray into palatable food - miracled food still had a strange blandness to it no matter how amazing it smelled, but for now, it was leaps and bounds better than what it had been. And toast was always a good go to for small humans whose stomachs might take issue with heavier foods.  
Kellord snagged a piece for himself after handing over the device. The ginger boy watched with interest as Crowley attempted several demonic miracles to try and boost the signal, frowning with Aelisea’s mouth as each was met with failure.  
_Ugh, must be something else down here blocking it,_ Crowley grumbled. Aelisea sighed, tucking the electronic into her back pocket for now.  
“You tried,” She murmured helpfully. Crowley got the distinct feeling she would have sympathetically patted his shoulder if she’d been physically capable.   
“Well, Plan A down the drain, we should probably go find our corporations. This guy’s all greasy and gross already and I’d hazard that you’d like to get out of Miss Aelisea there,” Faust pointed out, giving a shudder in his possessed body.   
Kellord cocked a brow. “People have flavors?”  
“Eh, sort of?” the lesser demon paused, making a vague hand gesture, “Generally any body that isn’t yours is going to feel like putting on a used rental costume, no offense.”  
The boy chuckled with a dismissive wave. “None taken. So, those were _your_ bodies in the summoning room? Honestly, I thought they were possessed as well.”  
_Hell - er - Heck no! I spent a lot of time on my corporation, picked out the cheekbones and everything! Its mine!_ Crowley pouted. Aelisea snorted, hiding a grin.  
“Mister Crowley is very offended you thought that, Kel.”  
“I am terribly sorry,” Kellord looked anything but. Cheeky little shit, Crowley thought quietly.   
“Anyway,” Faust held up his hands in a placating gesture, “Game plan? ‘Cause I don’t remember where that room was and I was a little too rough with this guy to get an answer outta him.”  
“They may have kept me blindfolded, but I know my way around fairly well,” Kellord stood, smoothing down his new clothes with a smirk. Aelisea rolled her eyes at the boy as she got to her feet.   
“Let's get the demons their bodies and get out already, boys.”

Faust waved his hand once they all cleared the cell block hallway, miracling up something like a glamour over the kids. Most anyone mortal looking their way would just see a single cultist moving through the hallways and corridors. It didn’t cover their voices, however.  
“I believe… this way,” Kellord directed just under his breath. Aelisea stuck to the back so she and the Fallen could watch for anyone coming up behind.  
_Huh, weird, could’ve sworn I felt something for a sec,_ Crowley murmured, directing Aelisea to glance around a corner they’d already passed. When no one appeared, he metaphorically shrugged while the girl hurried to catch back up to the others.  
_Must be these blessed runes everywhere. Can’t get a good read on anything._

\-----

Aziraphale cautiously made his way down the cold, dripping tunnels. He shuddered and scrunched his nose against the smell of mold and musty stone. After several wrong turns into dead ends, the angel turned a corner and spotted lit torches along a wider corridor. Aziraphale snuffed his ethereal light and peeked out into the hall. Just as he deemed it empty, he heard faint footsteps.  
Ducking back into the safety of the darkness, the angel watched closely as a dark-robed man-shaped being glided past. Aziraphale frowned, feeling something amiss deep down. He let his celestial senses open up and immediately pierced through the weak glamour, spotting the demon possessing the cultist and two children in tow. 

One of them held Crowley.

The former serpent frowned as he felt something tugging at him again. He was just about to voice it to Aelisea when someone with a vengeful heavenly glow about them shot out of a dark alcove and slammed Faust’s stolen body up against the stone wall.  
“Hgk!” was all Faust could get out with a broad forearm slammed against his throat, lifting him a few inches off the floor. Aziraphale’s free hand began to glow from the palm. The lesser demon’s own eyes widened as he whimpered.  
“WAIT! Don’t discorporate him!” Crowley would apologize profusely to the girl later, needing to act fast before the angel could finish. Aziraphale’s confused expression turned on the young girl who just spoke with his demon’s voice as the glow fizzled out from his hand.  
“Crowley?”   
The hopefulness awash in that single word made Crowley melt all over again. “Yeah, yeah, it's me, I’m a bit stuck in this body for the mo’. Now, if you could just let Faust down, he’s turning colors.”  
The angel made an unbecoming sound and quickly dropped his arm. Faust gasped, coughing and clutching the cultist’s bruised throat. Kellord slowly lowered a nasty looking dagger, cocking his head to the side.  
“Ah, we know this one? I suppose I’m glad I didn’t stab him, then,” the boy murmured, utterly calm. Crowley wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be very worried. He was distracted from deciding when he was enveloped by a very warm, but worried angel murmuring nonsense platitudes.  
“Angel… Angel! Aziraphale! I’m fine! Ngk - You’re gonna ssstrangle the kid!” Crowley’s pleas went unheeded. The demon let out a long suffering sigh and endured Aziraphale’s worry with a fond little smirk, pointedly ignoring the absolute ribbing he was getting from a giggling Aelisea.


	9. Chapter the Ninth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellord is a little shit and the demons are just trying to get their bodies back...

“When did you - hulgh - get that?” Faust managed after he finished his coughing fit, glowering at the boy and patting down the cultist’s belt hidden inside the robes. Kellord smirked and gestured with the dagger.  
“I took it while you were possessing him. Never know when you might need a weapon.”  
“Satan help me, you are _twelve!”_ the lesser demon hissed, swiping at the weapon. Kellord danced out of his reach with a teasing laugh. Faust covered his face and groaned.  
“At least don’t actually stab the angel, please.”  
“Wait, that’s an angel? As in, from Heaven, angel? I thought it was just an ironic pet name,” Kellord turned his attention on the bookish man who just moments ago had been awash with celestial wrath directed at Faust. Currently, he was still hugging Aelisea and she looked less than pleased.  
“Yep,” Faust popped the ‘p’ along with a little hand gesture, “What, the angry glowing wasn’t a dead giveaway?”  
“Doesn’t have a halo I can see,” the boy muttered with a snort, before continuing, “And he’s awfully concerned over a demon, which is odd if my memory of Christian religion serves.”  
“Those two’re… different,” the lesser demon grunted, cracking his back as he stood. The boy seemed to accept that for now, tucking the dagger away inside his jacket. Faust immediately regretted conjuring inside pockets on the thing.

Crowley finally managed to pry Aelisea free from Aziraphale, assuring the angel for the twentieth time that he was fine; more or less. Aziraphale managed to keep from asking a twenty-first time.  
“Are we good?” Kellord asked, brow raised. Faust tried to look as non-intimidating as possible with the angel’s attention back on him. Crowley/Aelisea gave the angel a Look.   
“Ah - yes, quite. My deepest apologies, demon. I didn’t realize you were helping my Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured his apology, wringing his hands fretfully. Faust gave an exaggerated shrug.  
“No hard feelings, not my body.”  
“Speaking of that, we should move,” the ginger boy dropped his voice and flicked a finger to point down the opposite end of the hallway, where a door slowly began to open. The lot ducked back into the alcove Aziraphale had come from, carefully peering out from the darkness.   
“No stabbing,” Faust hissed quietly. Kellord mock pouted. Aelisea was far from surprised at her companion’s actions. Crowley wondered just what that kid had done before to warrant no reaction from the saner girl. The angel looked mildly alarmed for a being that had been ready to do his own share of harm moments ago; though his reaction might have been geared a bit more towards the fact that a non-Crowley demon was the one stopping a sin.

Uneasy silence fell between them as two cultists exited the chamber and padded down the corridor. Their cowl-covered heads were bowed and their hands clasped behind them as they spoke in low tones.  
“Everything we have been working toward is riding on the whims of those_ creatures,_” one muttered darkly.  
“His Lordship has not been wrong yet, patience, Brother,” the other assured.  
“Surely we could have used an alternative to such… filth. We are not teenagers faffing about in the woods with mere toys.”  
“The prophecy clearly states that innocence must be corrupted by ‘original sin’.”  
“Pah - we both know that his Lordship translated that passage with the help of Brother Fergus. He could have misinterpreted.”  
The second audibly gasped. “Brother Richards! You speak blasphemy!”  
“So be it. I wouldn’t want years of prep work to go down the drain over a mistranslation,” with that, the two cultists rounded another corner further down the hall, the rest of their conversation lost to the echoes of the winding hallways.

“Well, they did get one thing wrong,” Aelisea murmured under her breath once the coast was clear, “They didn’t count on summoning the two absolutely worst demons for the job.”  
_Ouch, kid. Ouch._  
“Uncalled for,” Faust sulked, crossing his stolen body’s arms petulantly.   
“Not that we aren’t immensely grateful for the mixup,” Kellord added with a smirk. Aziraphale pursed his lips.  
“Perhaps we could catch the late arriving party up to speed?” the angel huffed. Aelisea snorted, internally snickering as Crowley rolled his eyes and muttered about bastards.

Aelisea and Crowley took turns catching Aziraphale up in quiet murmurs as Kellord backtracked to the chamber the two demons had been summoned into. Faust mostly kept his mouth shut in the interest of avoiding any further confrontation with the angel.   
Eventually, the boy was able to find the right chamber. Faust took the lead, seeing as he looked the proper part, and carefully pressed open the large door to peek inside. Frowning, he shoved it open farther and ducked in.  
“Ech, bad news, Crowley,” the lesser demon called after a tense moment. Crowley groaned.  
“They moved the bodies?” Aelisea asked dryly, sharing a look with Kellord.   
“Yeah,” Faust confirmed, crossing his arms over his chest as he glanced over the chamber. The summoning circles were still intact, though the braziers had burned down to nothing but cinder. Kellord let out an annoyed sigh.  
“Well. That’s inconvenient.”  
Aziraphale curiously stepped closer to one of the circles, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he surveyed the complicated runes. So this was what had pulled his poor demon away and dropped into this awful situation. He furrowed his brows and frowned.  
“Oh my,” the angel muttered, tilting his head. Crowley nudged at Aelisea so she would let him to the fore for a moment.   
“Wot, angel?”  
“Well, if I recall my ancient human languages correctly, these runes are in Babylonian. But then, these here are in Latin with the same general meaning. And Sumerian along this side. This all seems a bit overkill, really, for just summoning a pair of demons.”  
“First, rude. Second, I don’t think this lot really knows our lot, angel. They’re after some...thing or entity or bugger-all-wot, from someplace called the Void,” Crowley elaborated.   
“A god, of sorts,” Kellord added helpfully, not looking at all sorry at the glare fired in his direction for his tone.  
“Hmph, reminds me of a certain author I’m loathe to have in my shop. All doom and gloom, apocalypses and blood sacrifices. And quite the racist jerk,” the angel huffed, shaking his head. Kellord shot Faust a questioning look and the lesser demon could only shrug.  
“We-ell, much as I know the mystery is eating you up, angel, I’d very much rather find my corporation and get out, go home, and sleep for at least a month!”  
Aziraphale broke from his grump with a fond little smile at Crowley’s declaration. The angel nodded in agreement, abandoning the summoning circle to give Aelisea a gentle pat on the head. Both the girl and the demon grumbled.

“Where would they take two bodies?” Faust murmured mostly to himself. Aelisea glanced sidelong at the ginger boy, raising her brow. Crowley echoed the move metaphorically.  
“If not to the cellblock, they might have hauled them off to the Pit,” Kellord answered.   
“The Pit?”  
“No one leaves the compound, so they built a graveyard underground. It's more of a body dump, really,” the boy calmly explained, as if he were merely discussing the weather. Aziraphale’s eyes widened in horror.  
“And why do _you_ know that?”  
Kellord shrugged, “They used it as a scare tactic when I would act up.”  
Aelisea winced, but she seemed far from surprised by the knowledge.   
_You know about it too, don’t you?_ The demon gently asked.  
She grimaced and bit her lip. She finally settled on a nod. Crowley added another tally to his growing mental list. Aziraphale still hadn’t quite recovered, side eyeing the ginger boy with a worried gaze. Both demons couldn’t blame him.  
“As… unfortunately enlightening as this all is, if our corporations are in a… a body dump, we should probably hurry,” Faust tentatively piped up, gesturing vaguely.  
“Quite. The more I learn of these _gentlemen,_ the harder I find it to simply leave once Crowley has his self back,” the angel grumbled with narrowed eyes trained toward the open doorway. The lesser demon was just glad Aziraphale had his angelic wrath directed at the correct source.

“Lucky for you, I know how to get us there,” Kellord smirked, adding in a saucy little wink.


	10. Chapter the Tenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has about had it with these unpleasant cultists...

Leaving the summoning room behind, Faust and Kellord led the way for Aelisea and her extra cargo while Aziraphale brought up the rear. Crowley staunchly refused to think about his poor corporation and what state it might be in. A corpse dump, really? It was a perfectly good body!   
Aelisea could tell the demon was upset, however. She quietly reminded him that he could likely fix whatever might be wrong with it.  
_But_ I _would know what had happened. That sort of thing sticks with you._  
Aelisea snorted, resisting rolling her eyes as they followed her cellmate through the confusing winding tunnels and hallways.  
“Should be just around the next corner,” the ginger boy murmured. Faust slipped ahead once they reached the bend, pulling his hood down far over the cultist’s face.

Sure enough, another pair of cultists were talking in low tones a few feet from the chamber they needed. Faust straightened up and approached the two calmly.  
“Brothers,” the lesser demon greeted, drawing more on his stolen body’s voice than his own. The pair nodded their heads in unison.  
“Brother Theed.”  
“What brings you this way, Brother?”  
“Aah - ” Faust wracked his possessed human’s mind for an excuse, “Curious, truth be told. What was done with the filth? I did not see them while tending to the sacrifices.”  
The cultist on the left snorted while the other jerked his thumb toward the chamber door behind them.  
“Seems the filth abandoned the lost souls during the ritual. Brother Charles gave them their rites at his Lordship’s request, as is only fair.”  
Faust clenched his fists at the small of his back, hidden by the flowing sleeves of the robe. Hauling off and hitting one of them wouldn’t get him anywhere. The padlock on the chamber door looked unfun to try and break on his own.   
At least they had confirmation. 

Meanwhile around the corner, Crowley fumed silently while Aelisea and Kellord watched things play out. The demon was just about to snark off when Aziraphale brushed past both children and brazenly approached the trio of cultists with a bland smile that didn’t reach the angel’s eyes.  
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” His voice was too calm. Faust visibly shuddered and swallowed thickly, taking a few steps away from the confused pair. He didn’t want to get caught in the backlash of an angel’s wrath… again.  
“Who are _you?_”   
“What are you doing in our coven?!”   
Both dropped their hands to their hidden weapons. Faust almost pitied them.  
“No, none of that, now,” Aziraphale snapped his fingers and both cultists froze, standing ramrod straight. The angel offered a tight smile to the lesser demon before snapping his fingers again. The two cultists dropped like lead balloons.

“Not that you weren’t doing a marvelous job,” Aziraphale assured the other occult being as he stepped over the collapsed humans, “I just wasn’t thrilled with how they spoke about you and Crowley.”  
Faust reminded himself for a third time that day that Angels were terrifying. Especially the Principality. He was very, very glad Crowley spoke in his defense. Speaking of the other demon, Kellord and Aelisea slipped out from their hiding spot while the angel fiddled with the chamber door’s locks.  
“He’s a little… intense,” the girl nervously laughed.  
_He’s just cranky. I’ll bet he’s not eaten since I disappeared, makes him downright irritable._  
Aelisea’s brow shot up. “I’m sorry, did you just tell me the angel is hangry?”  
_Is that the term for it now? Sometimes I can’t keep up with all your changing lingo, ‘specially non-Londoners…_  
Kellord glanced over with a curious look. Aelisea just shook her head and groaned.  
“They’re all crazy.”  
“I could’ve told you that, Aelis,” Kellord chuckled, folding his hands behind his back as they caught up to the angel in question. Aziraphale frowned and dropped the padlock to clank against the metal door.  
“I’ve tried being polite, and I’ve tried demanding. Very stubborn lock. Perhaps it's warded somehow?”  
“I’m better with modern locks,” Faust muttered, unsure of the old school mechanism.

Both children shared an incredulous look before Kellord rolled his eyes and knelt to rifle one of the cultist’s robes. Finding what he was after, the boy padded up to the angel and caught his attention.  
“Alternatively, if I may be so bold, we just use the _key,_” Kellord raised a brow, holding up said key made of the same cast iron as the lock. Aziraphale’s cheeks faintly colored as he plucked the metal item from the boy’s fingers.  
“Ah - erm - yes. Of course.”  
A turn and a click later, the angel forced open the heavy door with a well-placed shoulder. Faust caught both children by their collars as they moved to follow.  
“Mm, nah, let’s not,” the lesser demon shook his head, ignoring both protests, “I don’t care if you’ve both seen it, human corpses are disgusting.”  
Crowley had to agree, despite desperately wanting to find his corporation. Aelisea grumbled. Kellord only looked mildly put out.

Aziraphale shook his head with a slight smile as he pushed his way into the darkened chamber. It was refreshing to see another demon more like Crowley, even if it was a second generation from the Fallen. The angel’s contemplation was cut short, however, when the sharp and nauseating stench of decay hit his senses. He scrunched his face up and produced a small handkerchief to cover his mouth and nose as some small defense to the awful smell.  
“Let there be Light,” Aziraphale murmured, muffled by the cloth. The angel winced in disgust as the true contents of the chamber were revealed. Hearing there was a body dump was entirely different than laying eyes on one. Aziraphale hadn’t seen such a display of disregard for the dead since the height of the Black Plague.  
At least a few dozen corpses in various states of decay lay piled atop each other in a shallow dirt pit. Most were stripped of their clothes or left with only the barest of cover. Some had grievous wounds carved into their flesh in the shape of various runes in several different languages. Others had burns and still others had wounds Aziraphale couldn’t even begin to imagine what horrible instrument caused them. The few cultists’ bodies the angel could pick out still had their robes, however. He stepped around the perimeter, searching with furtive glances for two out-of-place fresh ones.  
“Oh dear,” the angel paused, spotting a thinner rotting arm sticking up from the mass of adults. Must have been young for a human - not quite as young as the two outside, but still. Aziraphale offered a quick word of consideration for their departed soul before moving on.  
“Any luck, angel?” Crowley called from the doorway, keeping Aelisea’s gaze turned down.  
“Not yet, my dear boy. This pit is quite a bit wider than it looks.”  
The demon let out a breath, caught the tail end of the stench and quickly backed away from the chamber. Faust looked a little green around the gills too. Kellord was the only one seemingly unaffected.

Aziraphale let out a triumphant sound as he spotted a dark jacket amongst the bodies. He snapped his fingers and caught the limp corporation as it conveniently fell free. The angel then frowned at the unfamiliar dark, shaggy hair, different face and scrappy beard - this must be the lesser demon’s. Aziraphale laid it carefully to the side and nearly gagged as the head lolled much too far backwards, revealing the bloody remains of a slit throat.   
“O-oh… uhm, I’ll just…” He gave another snap of his fingers without a thought, cleaning up and sealing the wound as if it had never been.  
The angel gave a shudder and swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he continued his search. He managed to ignore a creeping sensation crawling into his subconscious, trying to plant gruesome images in his mind concerning Crowley, his corporation, and the demon still inhabiting it when…  
He gave his head a good shake, banishing the thought far, far away. Crowley was _fine._ Any damage done would be fixable so long as the demon himself was safely not present. Besides, what Crowley didn’t know wouldn’t haunt him as well.  
Aziraphale thanked anyone listening when he found Crowley’s corporation shortly after. It had earned the same treatment as Faust’s; a clean slash to the throat. The angel absolutely hated the image it painted and hastily snapped his fingers to whisk away the sight. 

“Faust, was it? I could use your assistance,” Aziraphale called once he was satisfied. The lesser demon scrambled into the chamber, holding his breath with a grimace. Though he spotted his own corporation first with a relieved glance, he slid his gaze to Crowley’s with a nod.  
“Not gonna lie, I was really worried they’d done something to them,” Faust tried for a nervous chuckle, but a gag interrupted him. Suppose even to a demon the smell of rotten death was unpleasant. The angel offered a grim smile.  
“Lucky you,” He answered without explanation, shifting to heft Crowley’s body into his arms with little effort. The lesser demon took the hint once his coughing fit was finished and knelt by his own. Aziraphale politely turned away while Faust jumped ship.  
“Oh, Satan, I will never take this for granted _ever_ again!” the lesser demon proclaimed, cracking his knuckles for good measure. The cultist he’d stolen lay sprawled on the ground unconscious, though he was still breathing shallowly.   
“Shall we?” Aziraphale gestured vaguely despite having his arms full and Faust took the meaning clearly; the angel didn’t quite trust the demon at his back. The lesser demon ducked his head and high tailed it out of the chamber without further prompting. The angel took the opportunity to look back at the pile of corpses. He tilted his head slightly. 

The lot of it disappeared with a soft, distinct pop.

Several hundred miles away, in a nice little National Preserve forest tucked away from civilization, several dozen neat little unmarked graves winked into existence.


	11. Chapter the Eleventh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The escape plan hits a snag...

Aziraphale didn’t say a word of it as he carried Crowley’s body back out to the others, setting the limp corporation up against the corridor’s wall gently. Aelisea promptly stepped up to the redhead demon’s body with a determined expression.  
“Alright, out!” The girl teasingly commanded with her hands on her hips.  
_Yes, Ma’am._ Crowley chuckled. The demon wasted little time once she touched his exposed wrist, slipping back into his own body like a well-fitting glove. It was stiff from being without the demon’s celestial essence and he definitely needed a good hot bath once they got home, but it was all in one piece. He let out a pleased sigh and cracked open his own eyes to see Aziraphale’s beaming smile.  
“Welcome back, dearest. I hope he wasn’t too terrible a passenger, my dear girl?”  
“Nah, decent houseguest for a demon,” Aelisea snickered, though she did unsubtly roll her shoulders and shudder once her headspace was cleared of Crowley’s presence. Kellord offered her an odd look she only nodded at. The boy seemed satisfied.

“We-ell, corporations successfully obtained, I’d say that’s a wrap!” Crowley proclaimed. The demon stood and cracked his back with a grunt before fussing with his hair until it behaved. Aziraphale couldn’t help a fond smile as he reached up to smooth a stray ginger lock.  
“Mn, yes, freedom,” Kellord drawled. Aelisea shot him a sharp look and elbowed him in the arm. He shrugged with a tight smile. Faust glanced sidelong at the boy, chewing on his lip. Crowley abruptly recalled the lesser demon’s earlier falsely flippant comments about the kid’s mental state and wondered just how badly this cult had messed him up.  
“Not that I don’t want to be a hundred miles from here; I just wonder if perhaps people like this,” the boy gave a passing gesture to the two unconscious cultists, “shouldn’t be properly… taken care of. To keep them from causing this sort of trouble all over again.”  
“I… really hate to agree with the mentally unstable kid, but he has a point,” Faust muttered just low enough for Crowley to catch.  
“Something _will_ be done about them, rest assured, dear boy,” Aziraphale assured, his smile not reaching his eyes. That at least mollified Kellord for the most part. The boy’s fingers still gave the dagger hidden in his jacket a passing stroke, however.  
“Just not by you,” the angel admonished, wagging a finger at the ginger kid. Kellord snorted in response, muttering under his breath. Faust wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders and chuckled.  
“I need to teach you some subtlety, kid. Hauling off and stabbing someone’ll get you in trouble,” the lesser demon advised, nodding sagely despite Kellord’s raised brow.  
“I keep telling him that,” Aelisea muttered. Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged looks.  
“That’s not - I mean, Ngk - ”  
“Surely we should return them to their parents?” The angel interrupted his struggling husband and furrowed his brows, not sure how he felt about the lesser demon ‘teaching’ the boy anything.  
“We’re both orphans,” Aelisea deadpanned, rolling her eyes.

“I knew I felt my wards break. How… unfortunate.” 

The lot of children and celestial beings had been too engrossed to realize they were exposed as another cultist rounded the corner. This cultist wore a differently dyed robe; darker with the hem sewn in gold thread. He looked them all up and down with cold, black eyes before grimacing.  
“Why am I not surprised the brats are loose,” he murmured before glancing down to the two unconscious cultists, “I told his Lordship to rune carve your cell, but nooo.”  
Aziraphale quickly brought up his hand to snap another miracle, but nothing happened. The golden hem of the cultist’s robes flared brightly for a split second instead, and then the man smirked.  
“Oh dear…”  
“Wot?!”  
“Shit.”  
“Ugh…”  
“Unlike my fellow brothers, I took precautions,” he gestured grandly to his robes before pulling out a faintly glowing blade from some hidden pocket. The metal was nearly white with a mirror-shine to it and yet more runes were carved down the entire hilt. 

Crowley and Faust both jerked and took a cautious step back from the man wielding what smelled an awful lot like an actual celestial blade.

Aziraphale pursed his lips. This was problematic. Also somewhat expected from a group that managed to summon and trap a Fallen. He could only hope the human assumed he was a third demon. The knife would hurt if they scored a hit, but would not be nearly the devastating blow if they struck Crowley or Faust. The angel moved to shield the two along with the children, but only Aelisea was present; currently smartly ducking behind Crowley. Kellord was nowhere to be seen.  
“So, you managed to call a third of your number to assist you, hm? I would be curious how they even found this place, however, a more pressing matter is at hand. Too bad none of you can snap your way out. I took care of _that _little problem myself. Took _ages_ to carve all those runes into the very bricks of every corridor…”  
The three human-shaped beings shared a glance as the cultist monologued, Crowley going so far as to roll his serpentine eyes in annoyance. Faust suppressed a snicker.  
“Yes, yes, it seems your colleagues greatly underestimated your _fine_ intellect,” Aziraphale interrupted, quite finished with the human’s posturing. The cultist blustered, face reddening as he glared at the angel.  
“That’s grand, coming from such filth as yourself - ”  
“I would greatly appreciate it if you would cease referring to myself and mine as ‘filth’. Rather rude, really. We’re not the ones living in a deserted desert mineshaft,” Aziraphale harrumphed as he interrupted once again. Crowley glanced at the lesser demon beside him as the other made a noise in his throat. Faust jerked his chin toward the corridor behind the cultist, and sure enough, Crowley spotted someone slinking from shadow to shadow until they were just behind the armed man. His eyes widened. 

Aziraphale and the cultist, however, hadn’t noticed.

“We will not be deterred by this set back! Even if we must dispose of you lot and obtain new sacrifices, His Lordship will not be denied! We _will_ open the Void and - Ghk!”  
This time, it wasn’t the angel interrupting the cultist. Kellord viciously twisted the dagger as he drove it between the man’s ribs from behind. Crowley winced as he noticed the slight crazed smile on the boy’s lips as he brought the cultist down.  
“Without you, he won’t,” Kellord hissed, smile slipping into a manic grin as the cultist gurgled and collapsed. Aziraphale struggled to feel even an ounce of angelic Grace about this turn of events, and found his only regret was not stopping the child from committing the act himself.  
The boy ripped the dagger free and snapped up to deliver a final slash. Faust caught his arm mid swing.  
“No! No, drop it! Don’t make me sit on you, kid!”  
Crowley inched up to a stop beside his angel, watching the lesser demon wrestle the bloodied dagger from the ginger kid with a bit of wary awe. The Fallen had certainly wanted these cultists to taste a bit of their own medicine, but maybe in a less visceral way. Aelisea crossed her arms over her chest and gave the dying cultist a swift kick to the face of her own.  
“We-ell, this might be a _bit_ of a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Faust wasn't lying when he said Kellord had "issues".


	12. Chapter the Twelfth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids are little shits and Celestial beings hatch half cocked escape plans...

“How so?” Aziraphale asked, meeting his incredulous demon husband’s stare, “Nothing we can’t undo.”  
“Nothing we can’t - angel, we can’t just miracle this away! That’s - not angelic. Probably!”  
Aelisea gave the two a raised brow and a snort. “Wouldn’t bother, Brother Fergus isn’t the first one of these assholes Kel’s killed.”  
Both celestial beings slowly looked between the girl who was much too calm about that statement and the boy as Faust managed to corral him. Kellord sulked once the lesser demon finally plucked the dagger out of his hand.  
“Language, my dear girl,” Aziraphale managed after a moment.  
“Oh, stuff it. You don’t get to swoop in and baby us! We’ve been trapped here for a whole _year,_ and that’s just with these whack jobs,” Aelisea snapped back, rolling her eyes. The angel blinked.  
“Where were you before?” Crowley tentatively ventured.  
“Here and there,” the girl muttered vaguely. She watched Faust whisk the dagger away and murmur something to her counterpart before she begrudgingly looked up at the other two. “Orphanage was crap. Ran away. Met Kel on the streets. Did the homeless thing for awhile. We got taken by some people - forced to - to, um. Do Stuff. Kel did most of _it, _so I didn’t have to - to… do the stuff,” She paused, looking away and rubbing her arm agitatedly, “Then they sold us to these jerks.”

Aziraphale and Crowley both silently jointly decided not to ask either child to elaborate. They had been privy to enough of human history to make some disturbing inferences that didn’t ever need to be voiced. And they say _demons_ inspire the worst sins.  
“So yeah, unless you can undo all of that, there’s really no point,” Aelisea finished quietly.

Faust eventually let Kellord go once he had at least visibly calmed down and they rejoined the rest of the group. The boy immediately shot a look between the girl chewing her lip and the two tight-lipped human-shaped beings. At Aelisea’s head shake, however, he dropped his unasked question.   
“You weren’t kidding,” Crowley muttered in Faust’s direction, garnering a nervous chuckle from the lesser demon.  
“I did warn you. Not enough therapy in the _world._”  
“I don’t know, that felt very cathartic,” Kellord smirked, clasping his hands at the small of his back. Faust just rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. Aziraphale sighed heavily before snapping his fingers and tucking the newly acquired celestial blade into his vest for safe keeping. Best not be leaving that lying around.  
“Your innocent act isn’t fooling anyone now,” Aelisea grumbled. Kellord chuckled in response.   
“Really, I don’t understand the issue. Shouldn’t you _want_ me to commit cardinal sins?”  
“We-ell, I’m not - that’s to say, I got fired, really. No quota for me anymore - ”  
“I’m not a Wrath demon! I’m more of a Lus - err - Homicide’s not my usual fare - ”  
Both demons scrambled to explain at the same time. Aelisea choked on a laugh. Kellord’s smirk grew.  
“Perhaps we could continue this in less hostile territory? We’ve quite outstayed any welcome, I’m sure,” Aziraphale pressed, pointedly cutting off the discussion.  
“Right, right, out. Deal with - this - later,” Crowley gave the boy a vague all encompassing gesture. Kellord only smiled demurely. Aelisea smacked his shoulder.

Once Aziraphale regained his bearings and the ginger boy added a few suggestive directions, the group slowly tracked down the corridors narrowly avoiding additional cultists. Really, the lot of occult beings would rather avoid any further confrontation and just get out of the musty, moldy, and uncomfortably damp tunnels. Little conversation was made mostly in the interest of not being caught unawares a second time.

Eventually, they came to the start of the unlit section where the angel had tumbled down quite fortuitously into the den of snakes; no offense to a specific demon in company. Faust offered to take the lead with the oddly knowledgable Kellord in tow to try and find the hole once again.  
“I’m sorry, you _fell in?”_ Aelisea gawked, snorting as they walked. Aziraphale huffed and absently straightened his vest. Crowley adamantly hid his own grin. Faust just kept walking, keeping a careful eye on Kellord despite the entirely unassuming body language of the kid.  
“Don’t you have wings, or something?”  
“I didn’t have the time to react properly!” The angel shot back defensively, wringing his hands.  
“Uh huh,” the girl smirked. Aziraphale pouted at his demon, looking for sympathy, however Crowley rather pointedly glanced away and scratched his chin.

Up ahead, Faust lifted his hand with one finger extended and called forth a small flame of hellfire to light their way. Kellord eyed it with a curious interest.  
“Don’t touch it,” the lesser demon warned, holding his hand higher, “Pretty sure hellfire will melt the skin straight off your bones.”  
“Have you tried?”  
“Wha - no! Not personally… But I’ve seen the aftermath. Other demons aren’t as - uh - let’s just say some of us aren’t as concerned about human general well-being.”  
“Yes, the N-word,” Crowley interjected.   
“Nice,” Aziraphale helpfully added in a stage whisper at Aelisea’s cocked brow. She snorted in response. Crowley muttered about demons and niceness under his breath, but the angel only offered his demon husband an exasperated look. Both children glanced at each other and shrugged.  
“Here, this looks promising,” Faust came to a stop under a collapsed bit of tunnel. He pointed up with his unlit hand to the faint patch of starlit sky several meters above. Aziraphale confirmed the spot after giving the impromptu skylight a concentrated squint. Unthinkingly, the angel snapped his fingers and looked surprised when nothing happened.  
“There’s probably enough residual from all the runes even here to keep you from just miracling us all out,” Crowley grumbled, giving the tunnel leading back to the cult coven a wilting glare. Aziraphale pursed his lips.  
“Crowley, dear, how comfortable are you assuming your other form?” He asked after a pause.  
“I - ngk - wot?”  
The angel offered a pitying glance to his demon before elaborating, “I don’t believe anyone here could climb out, even with assistance, except you, my dear.”  
“Hate to ask, but yeah, wolves aren’t known for their sheer rock face scaling,” Faust apologetically added. Crowley groaned, rubbing his face agitatedly.  
“Ngk - Alright, alright! Just… give me a minute.”  
Faust politely turned about and studied an absolutely captivating bit of wall in the opposite direction, pulling Kellord with him despite the kid’s protests. Aelisea cocked a brow but also followed suit, figuring the demon didn’t like an audience.

She was partially right; Crowley hated revealing his demonic snakey form. It was one thing to be snake-like at all times and deal with the stares at his serpentine eyes, quite another to literally slither on the ground once again.   
Aziraphale promised to make it up to the other for requesting this once they were back home. For now, the former serpent really was the only one that could scale the climb.

Crowley reluctantly allowed his inner snake to come forth. It took a fair bit of effort, and the feeling of losing his arms and legs was extremely disconcerting. The stone was even colder through his belly scales and he gave an uncomfortable shiver.  
“...Fascinating,” Kellord murmured, eyeing the massive black and red snake that took Crowley’s place. Faust whispered something to the boy and the kid only rolled his eyes. Aelisea gave the Fallen a thumbs up.  
“Get us out of here, and I’ll convince Kel not to ask you a thousand questions.”  
“He would be grateful for that, my dear girl,” Aziraphale answered, nodding to his demon. Crowley gave an affirming nod of his own before turning and flicking his forked tongue toward the hole in the ceiling.


	13. Chapter the Thirteenth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faust gets a shock and Aziraphale is a bit of a bastard...

Crowley had his angel give him a bit of a boost to at least get above the smoothed bricks of the tunnel proper. Once he had a grip on the root-ridden dirt above that, the serpent had little trouble slithering his way up and out.  
As Crowley’s tail flicked out of sight into the darkness, Aziraphale blinked and realized he had been silently Willing his demon to succeed with an unblinking stare. Faust chewed on his lip while Kellord had a worrying glint in his cold brown eyes.  
“So, can you do that?” The boy finally asked the lesser demon.  
“Yeah.”  
“_Kel, _be nice,” Aelisea warned, glaring at the ginger kid. Faust waved his hand dismissively.  
“Nah, it's fine. I know Crowley’s touchier about it that the rest of us,” the lesser demon glanced Aziraphale’s way for permission to continue. The angel slowly nodded, shocked the other cared to check.  
“All demons have a - an animal form we were assigned, for lack of a better term, by head office. That’s Hell, by the way,” Faust leaned up against the tunnel wall and crossed his arms. Kellord tilted his head, but didn’t interrupt. Aelisea made a show of not listening by picking at the clothes Crowley had miracled up for her.  
“But then humans got to - well, there’s a crapton of you now, and animals didn’t fit the bill for doing our jobs. So, a lot of us took human corporations. Some… made more Effort with theirs than others.”  
“Is that why you and Mr. Crowley look pretty normal? Aside from the eyes,” Aelisea gestured to her own face. Faust nodded.  
“Can’t hide the eyes, not naturally, anyway. S’part of the deal.”

Aziraphale pondered. Was Crowley - then Crawley - the first one to take a human-shaped form? Just to be able to talk to _him_ on that gate? It's not like the angel hadn’t known what the other was at the time despite the human guise...

“Incoming!” Interrupted Crowley from above. A second later, a sturdy rope ladder unfurled down into the tunnel with a snap. Aziraphale chuckled. Of course. The Them would be impressed by the creativity. Faust clapped his hands before grandly gesturing to the ladder.  
“Young ladies and creepy little horror movie kids first!” He joked, earning an exasperated groan from Aelisea and an amused snort from Kellord. Aziraphale tutted gently, however he didn’t quite admonish the lesser demon. The boy was… off putting. Worryingly so.  
The children scurried up the ladder while Faust kept a foot on the lowest rung to hold it steady. As soon as they were high enough, the angel took hold of the opposite side of the ladder and looked the lesser demon in his odd green-swimming-in-black eyes.  
“Faust, I need an honest answer if you please.”  
The demon adopted a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, but he gave a tentative nod anyway, “I’ll… do my best?”  
“That’s really all I can ask,” Aziraphale assured, offering a kind smile, “How… safe do you believe it would be to leave those two with human authorities?”  
Faust’s brow furrowed and he shot a look up the ladder while chewing his lip. “Honest answer, huh?”  
“If possible, yes.”  
“The girl would be fine, after a while. Probably. The boy? Not a chance. And I don’t just mean the stabbing tendencies,” the lesser demon tapped his temple for emphasis, “And separating them probably wouldn’t be a good idea. The kid’s mighty attached to Miss Aelisea up there and I honestly don’t wanna find out what he would do if you tried.”  
Aziraphale let out a breath. He’d asked for an honest answer and it was not what the angel wanted to hear. However, that wasn’t the demon’s fault.  
“I see.”  
“Yeah, life did not deal that kid a kind hand, that’s for damn sure,” Faust snorted, mounting the ladder with a huff.

“You two get stuck or wot, angel? Hop to!” Crowley called down teasingly, easily able to see that the two other celestial beings were just conversing at the bottom. He couldn’t hear anything, but he suspected Aziraphale was grilling the poor demon on something. At his teasing interruption, Faust ducked his head and climbed up, shortly followed by the frowning angel.  
“Right, clear and free of those pesky runes. I think it's time for a little payback,” the Fallen chuckled darkly, snapping his fingers with a gusto. The rope ladder abruptly became a whole chain of rather upset venomous snakes that fell into the tunnel, filling the darkness with angry hisses.  
“That’ll be a fun little present to stumble over,” Aelisea commented as she peered over the edge with a smirk. Kellord nodded approvingly. Faust snorted, snapping his own fingers to seal off their escape hole so the only way out was through the compound. Aziraphale clucked his tongue disapprovingly, carefully hiding his own amusement at the punishment. Served them right.  
“Now then. I think it’s high time we got a wiggle on, hm?” Crowley pointedly glanced at his angel. The disapproving look melted into a fond smile.  
“Oh yes, quite. There’s just one small matter,” Aziraphale turned to the children and gestured vaguely toward the nearby town. “Where would you like us to take you both?”  
“Sorry?” Aelisea blinked, confusion scrunching her nose. Kellord tilted his head in equal question.  
“Well, as you said, orphaned and given little agency until now; it would be rude of us to assume where you wanted to go from here.”  
The kids glanced at each other. The obvious silent communication wasn’t lost on the three human-shaped beings.  
“Anywhere we wanna go?” The girl cocked a brow at the angel. Aziraphale shrugged.  
“Certainly.”  
Crowley and Faust shared a quick slightly nervous look as Kellord’s gaze slid toward the two demons. The boy smirked and whispered something to Aelisea.  
“You weirdo, just ask him yourself! I don’t care,” she snorted, rolling her eyes. Kellord cleared his throat and tucked his hands behind his back before glancing up at the lesser demon with some close approximate to puppy eyes.  
“I’d rather like to stay with _you,_ Mister Faust.”  
Faust blinked. He swallowed thickly. “Ghk.” The lesser demon managed.

Crowley sidled up to his angel, shoving his hands in his pockets as the other demon tried to articulate anything. Kellord only seemed amused by the attempts.  
“Do you really think this is a good idea, angel?”  
“Mn, couldn’t be any worse than what they’ve been through already,” Aziraphale reasoned, “And he seems nice enough.”  
“Again with the N-word, angel. We’ve got to work on that,” the former serpent grumbled, watching Aelisea stifle giggles as Faust stuttered out various useless excuses, “But seriously, wouldn’t it make more sense for us to take them? We’ve got the experience.”  
“Trial by fire, my dear boy. Metaphorically, of course. Wouldn’t it be lovely if more of our respective kinds took _care_ of humans instead of lording over them?”  
Crowley whistled low and chuckled. “Devious bastard.”  
“Just enough of one, as you say,” Aziraphale allowed a small smirk to surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could not, in any way, go poorly.
> 
> *Thank you for enjoying this venture with me and thank you for reading!


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Right, you do know the basics for humans, don’t you? Your place got beds, real food, a privy?”

After letting Faust flounder a bit longer, Aziraphale assured the poor thing that he and Crowley wouldn’t leave him _entirely_ to the children’s whims, much to Aelisea and Kellord’s chagrin. 

“It will be a learning experience!” The angel jovially promised. Faust groaned. Crowley loosely wrapped an arm around the lesser demon’s shoulders and grinned.  
“It’ll be fun, think of all the temptations! I had to share child rearing and let me tell you, no one is more annoyingly righteous than a parental angel,” the former serpent teased. Aelisea snorted and rolled her eyes, muttering something about taking care of herself, thank you very much. Kellord laughed.  
“I’m not weaseling out of this, am I?” The lesser demon whined.  
“I’m sure you can’t do any worse,” the boy assured, gesturing vaguely toward the ground for emphasis. Faust scoffed.  
“For Satan’s sake, I’d _hope_ I would be a better influence than _that.”_  
“See? You’ll do fine, my dear boy,” Aziraphale beamed, pleased the lesser demon was still proving the angel’s point. With an exaggerated flourish, said angel snapped his fingers and the lot found themselves abruptly standing in the middle of A.Z. Fell & Co.’s bookshop in Soho. Daylight filtered through the dusty windows in a sharp contrast to the darkened desert they were just standing in.

“Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll put on some tea,” Aziraphale bustled off deeper into the shop without another thought. Crowley snorted and led the shell-shocked demon and his newly appointed wards to the backroom. Kellord had to be pulled along by the exasperated girl as his eyes roved the shelves upon shelves of books.  
“Right, sit wherever. Eh, ‘cept that armchair, sorry. That’s it,” the former serpent deposited Faust on one end of the couch. He wasn’t terribly surprised when Kellord flopped onto the floor near the lesser demon’s feet.  
“Um, where, exactly, are we?” Aelisea tentatively asked from her spot on another armchair that just so happened to appear in the last few moments next to Aziraphale’s favored tartan one.  
“Oh! Right, sorry, this is Zira’s bookshop. We’re in London, aaall the way across the pond,” Crowley helpfully supplied. The girl stifled a snort-laugh at the nickname. Kellord looked like he was just brimming with questions, but held his tongue quite literally with his teeth. Crowley took a little pity on the kid as he flopped onto his spot on the other end of the couch.  
“Angelic teleportation miracle. Demons can do a similar one, but not to so many bodies at once,” the Fallen waved his hand dismissively. Aziraphale chose that moment to pop back in with a tray in hand.  
“Here we are,” the angel passed around mismatched cups of steaming tea to everyone, ending with himself and his own silly little angel-winged mug. “And something extra for the children,” he added, gesturing to the until that moment unnoticed little tin of chocolate biscuits. Kellord and Aelisea didn’t wait for a second invitation to snag several.

“Faust? Are you with us?” Crowley crooned, half-teasing and half-actual concern for the ashen faced lesser demon.  
“Mn,” Faust managed, glancing down at his mug of tea. He finally took a slow sip before letting out a long, loud sigh. “I - this isn’t - there’s - hgk,” he stopped trying to speak, running agitated fingers through his shaggy dark hair. Kellord smirked up at him from the floor, tea and biscuits already gone without a crumb.  
“Bit stunned?” the boy asked,tilting his head.  
“...That’s one way to put it, you little shite,” Faust muttered, though there was no bite to the insult. The boy seemed unfazed. Aziraphale clucked his tongue in warning. Both demons had a compulsory reaction to mutter half-assed apologies under their breaths. Crowley blinked and shot the angel a glare once he’d realized what he’d done.  
“Where are you stationed, anyway?” The former serpent asked instead, changing the subject.  
“Cork, mainly, but I’ve been sent out as far as Alihies.”  
“Ooh, Ireland! How’s it with all the Catholics over there?”  
“Funny story, that. Most mistake me for a Faefolk instead of a demon, so really, not too bad,” Faust chuckled, feeling a bit more himself, “And I really don’t help that image with my - ah - cohorts.”  
“The geese, right?”  
Kellord and Aelisea shared a curious look.   
“Geese?” Aziraphale voiced their combined confusion. The lesser demon nodded.  
“Oh, yeah, the girls help me out on my jobs. Vicious beasties, they are. And then there’s George. Bit of an arse, but he’ll warm up to you two if you slip him some whiskey.”  
The angel scrunched his nose at the thought of giving some poor animal alcohol, however this _was_ a demon. Albeit one much more in line with Crowley’s idea of trouble than, say, old Hastur.  
“What sort of jobs?” Aelisea cocked her brow. Faust’s cheeks colored faintly and he turned to nervously cough.  
“Er - um, well, technically speaking, I’m… supposed to be an incubus.”  
Aziraphale choked on his tea. Crowley tried to stifle a snort, failed, and broke into a fit of un-demonlike giggles. Kellord didn’t bother hiding a wide smirk.  
“_You? _Are a sex demon,” Aelisea gave the scruffy, unshaven leather biker jacket-clad lesser demon a long unimpressed stare.   
“Please don’t word it like that,” Faust grumbled.  
“Kel, are you still sure about this?” She shot back to her companion, ignoring the demon’s grumblings.  
“Absolutely,” the boy assured, earning a groan from the girl.  
“Anyway!” the lesser demon snapped, “All my job description entails is ‘inspiring discourse between humans in relationships’ and you can do _that _just by fucking up an anniversary dinner order.”  
“Oh, I do dislike it when waiters get my order wrong,” the angel murmured, frowning at his mug. Crowley rolled his eyes.  
“So you’re bad at your job. Welcome to the club,” the Fallen gestured to himself with a huff, “We both know nobody actually _reads_ any of the reports so long as you send ‘em in on time with all the right signatures.”  
“I mean, when you put it like that…” Faust muttered, looking down and chewing his lip once again, “And it's only for, what, 60? 70 years? I could probably handle that.”  
“Gee, thanks,” Aelisea sarcastically quipped, rolling her eyes. Kellord on the other hand shrugged.  
“Our other option was ‘death by cultists before our teens’ a week ago,” the boy pointed out calmly. The girl huffed in response.  
“Oh! I nearly forgot,” Aziraphale exclaimed, setting down his tea and scurrying off into the bookshop. 

Crowley raised a brow as his angel left the backroom, but turned back to the lesser demon and the two kids.  
“Right, you do know the basics for humans, don’t you? Your place got beds, real food, a privy?”  
Faust looked mildly horrified for a split second before he shook his head. “Erm, not - well, yes, or else Margaret wouldn’t visit, but I can make it more - uh - appropriate.”  
“Who’s Margaret?” Aelisea scowled. The lesser demon cracked a smile.  
“Oh, you’ll like her, she brings sweets.”  
“So she’s old.”  
“I’m old,” Faust argued. The girl snorted.  
“Yeah, but you’re not human. You don’t count. Old people smell weird.”  
“Margaret does _not_ smell weird, and I would know!”

Crowley smirked, chuckling quietly as the two sniped at each other while Kellord fought down an amused grin. The former serpent finished his tea in the meanwhile and wandered off for a moment to go find his angel. He spotted Aziraphale in the kitchenette with his mobile phone, of all things.  
“Aah, yes. Yes... Ooh, that would be lovely of you,” the angel spoke into the device, turning to spy his demon with an indulgent smile and a quick gesture to hold on a second. Crowley obliged.  
“Thank you, my dear girl. Do take care.” Aziraphale was practically giddy as he hung up the call and set the mobile aside.  
“Wot was that about?”  
“Oh, just encouraging the local authorities back in the States to investigate some illegal activity.”  
“And you just happened to give them the exact information they needed, hm?”  
“I haven’t the foggiest clue what you mean by that, dearest,” Aziraphale adopted his most innocent of expressions. Crowley wasn’t buying it for a second.  
“Devious bastard,” the demon accused fondly, “However, those cruel pricks deserved worse. Just felt wrong doing it in front of the kiddies.”  
“I’m sure they’ll get _exactly_ what they deserve, my dear boy. Now, in the meantime, I’m absolutely famished and I’m sure the children could use a bit more than tea and biscuits.”  
“Don’t have to tell me twice, angel. I believe a spot _just_ opened up for five at the Ritz.”  
“Ooh, that sounds lovely.”

And for the first and only time that particular early afternoon, the Ritz inexplicably had the ingredients for two cheese toasties to accompany two tomato basil soups.

~Fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand this is the end! (_of Part 1_) Thank you so much for reading and enjoying this, I had fun writing it all!
> 
> Keep an eye out for a _Part 2_ \- the (mis)adventures of Faust and the kiddos, if interested in the OCs. I'll add it as a Series joiner once I have a few chapters written as that one will likely be a different format than the stream of conscious this one was.
> 
> And, as always, I loooove comments :D

**Author's Note:**

> I adore all comments and feel free to let me know if I'm missing tags!


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